


Looking For London

by MyssMyssy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Long Lost/Secret Relatives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:02:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyssMyssy/pseuds/MyssMyssy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London McCarthy went to London looking for her father. That is how she found herself at 221b Baker st consulting with Sherlock Holmes. Only problem she herself goes missing, throw in a couple of American demon hunting brothers looking for her too and London just won't be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins

The girl who sat on the chair in the middle of the room was most definitely American. You could tell from her long curly dark hair streaked with purple, her t-shirt emblazoned with some band popular in the States, her leather skirt, her fairly new tattoo on her left calf of a dragon of some kind, and her many piercings, she was definitely an odd one. Something in her green eyes and her sharp cheekbones seemed familiar to Sherlock. Even John was reminded of something in her face. They listened intently to her accented voice as she told her tale.  
“My name is London McCarthy; I was named after this city because I was conceived here. I am here because I was told you could find anyone. I was assured that you could solve any case brought to you. I am desperate. You see I am looking for someone very important.”  
Sherlock nodded with his hand tented before his face. He knew exactly who this girl was looking for.   
“You are looking for your father.” Sherlock sat forward looking at the girl levelly.  
She looked at him with surprise, “Why yes. My mother told me that he was here in London. It was where they met 18 years ago.”  
“And you do not know this man’s name?” He asked.  
She looked down, “I know his name was William or something. I only know a little about the whole thing. My mother’s name was Emma McCarthy. She was here …”  
Sherlock looked up sharply, “Who? “  
John looked at his friend sharply. He rarely saw the man show emotion or surprise but when the girl mentioned that name a strange look crossed his face. There was something going on there but it quickly passed, leaving John to wonder if he had even seen it at all.  
“My mother said she met the man when she was here with her parents on a trip 18 years ago. They met one day when she had gotten lost and separated from her family. He rescued her from some back alley in a not so good part of the city.”  
Sherlock looked very thoughtful for a moment. “You do not have much for us to go on in this case. How do you expect us to help you?”  
The girl looked at her feet and looked up at him with a pleading in her eyes, “I am quite desperate. My mother is gone. I have no other family. I need to find this man.”  
“Miss McCarthy, is there anything else that you can tell us that may help out with our investigation if we so choose to take your case?” John asked finally chiming in on the whole matter.  
London looked down at her hands, “He gave her a ring. It had his initials on it WSSH.”   
She held the piece of silver out to the two men sitting on either side of her. Sherlock swallowed audibly when he saw the metal object. John could tell there was definitely something going on this time. Did he detect a tremble as his old friend reached for the thing?  
“Well, now I think we might just get something out of that. If you will come back tomorrow, we will have news for you.” Sherlock quickly dismissed the girl. “I am sure you can find your way out”  
London looked a little confused, but she grabbed her leather jacket and almost ran into Mrs. Hudson as she made her way down the stairs. The landlady was a little taken aback by her attire and her appearance.  
“Oh dear we have an odd one there.” She said when she entered the room where John and Sherlock were sitting.  
John smiled at the little old lady, “Yes she’s American. Looking for her father.”  
Sherlock was sitting in his chair staring at the ring in his hand. There was a faraway look on his face and John knew that he was somewhere in his mind palace or something. There was something odd about this case and there was something odd about Sherlock at this moment.  
There was something else about the girl that had bothered John too about the girl. He had seen it many times in mostly men who had been to battle. There was a hunted look to the girl’s eyes. There was a look like he had only seen in people who had been on the battlefield.  
Later when Sherlock seemed to have some out of whatever he had gone into John asked him if he had noticed anything odd about their client.  
“What do you mean?” He had asked.  
“I just get the feeling that there is a lot more to her story than she is letting on to. Sometimes I really wonder about you Sherlock.”  
“Yes, there is something about that girl.”


	2. Spirited Awy

London left 221B Baker ST feeling a little exhilarated. It all went better than she had expected. It had taken everything she had not to just come out and tell Sherlock everything that she already knew. But no, he had to find out for himself. He would believe it more that way. He was in danger and the only way to save him now was to let him find out in his own way. Her mom said he wasn’t a believer. Maybe keeping him in the dark was his best defense. It was a slippery slope. All her hunter’s instincts told her to approach this one with care.

It took her a long time to get back to her hotel. Getting around London was quite complicated if you did not know how. There were so many streets and it was complicated. She was relieved to see the familiar building. She was greeted at the front door by a man with heavy eye lids. He opened the door for her and smiled before his eyes turned solid black. He put a hand over her mouth and plunged a needle into her neck. In moments darkness claimed her consciousness.

“Nighty, night luv.” The man whispered in her ear as he hefted her up and carried her off.


	3. The Americans

Sherlock had apparently solved the case of the missing father already to John’s surprise. He had not seen him do any research nor had he left the flat even once that whole day. He had merely sat there in his mind palace or whatever. John had done some research on Miss London McCarthy.

He had discovered that she had been born to Emma McCarthy in Omaha NE in the United States. She had lived in a great many places. Her mother never married. Her birthdate was July 27, 19--. She was 18 years old. Her mother died under mysterious circumstances three months ago. There was a strange alert that came up with her name. It seems that she was being sought in connection with the crimes of two wanted criminals in America by the name of Sam and Dean Winchester. Very unsavory lot they were. A strange case getting even stranger. Tis London was leaving a whole lot out of her story. John started to think that maybe it was time to make a little call to Mycroft.

Their conversation had been brief as per usual. John had hung u feeling a bit confused too at Mycroft’s own startled reaction to the girl’s mother’s name. Frankly he was getting tired of all the Holmes brother’s family secrets. They did have a lot of them.

The next day while they waited to heat from London John and Sherlock sat in their perspective chairs.

“How is my brother doing?” Sherlock asked fingering his violin idly.

John eyed him suspiciously, “Wha …how…did you?”

“Now come on John you know me better than that. You are right there is something going on, and I would like to have our Miss London to explain a few things before I give it all away. By the way shouldn’t she be here by now?”

“Yes. I thought she surely should have.”

Sherlock got up and looked out the window. “I think something is not quite right about this whole thing and I think it is the utmost importance that we go find Miss McCarthy as soon as possible.

As they hailed a cab Sherlock told John “I was able to discover which Hotel she was staying at when she took off her jacket I saw her room key.”

He told the cabbie where to go and within a few minutes they pulled along the curb to a modern looking hotel off a main street. It was not real busy looking. It was a place a lot of Americans stayed at when coming to London. It wasn’t cheap but it wasn’t the poshest place one could stay. The man at the front desk was a well-dressed, polite, looking, older gentlemen. Sherlock knew in an instant he was definitely gay and lived with his older sister, he had two cats, and he had a serious case of OCD.

Sherlock pulled out his pilfered Scotland Yard badge and flashed it a the man, “Yes we are interested in the young American girl who checked in yesterday by the name of London McCarthy. Could you be so kind as to tell us what room she is staying in.”

“Hmm…popular young woman.” The man sniffed,

John glanced at Sherlock nervously, “There were other looking for her?”

“Yes, just a bit ago. Two Americans, they said they were from Interpol. Anyway she is in room 203 right up the stairs on the left.”

Sherlock and John made their way up the stairs. The door was visible from the top of the stairs. From what they could see it was slightly ajar. As they moved closer they could hear the murmur of voices. Sherlock could distinguish at least two vocal tones both male. He pulled out the gun he had hid in the pocket of hi coat. John looked at his friend with a little surprise.

“What you gonna do with that?” He asked.

Sherlock put his finger to his lips and motioned to John to take up the other side of the door as he slowly opened it. He stealthily made his way into the room where two figures were standing next to the window arguing while looking over some papers lying on the bedside table.

“Police! Nobody move!” Sherlock yelled at the men pointing his gun.

The two men turn at once holding up their hands, looking more than a little shocked. “Uh… it’s alright. We are agents with Interpol. It’s all cool.”

“As a matter of fact I can tell you that you aren’t with Interpol at all. I can deduce that you are in fact something else entirely. I am not quite sure but you are aware that this is the room of a young lady that we are currently looking for.”

The tallest of the two stepped forward trying to look apologetic, but there was something just a tad bit off-putting in his hazel eyes. Even John could tell that both these men where not at all at home in the suits that they wore nor were they unaccustomed to being threatened at gun point, but there was something more to these men. John somehow recognized them. He had seen their faces somewhere else before. Someplace he was sure of it.

“I assure you that we are who we say we are I am Sam Colt and this is Dean Steele. We are here trying to find London just like you.” The tall one spoke.

Sherlock keenly took in the two more closely. Yes, these men were dangerous. The one calling himself Sam was obviously the younger one and these two were not just partners. They were definitely brothers. Dean had the look of a long life of violence. They both held themselves like they were ready to fight there was out if they had to.

Dean spoke up, “Maybe you could help us find where she is.”

“I’m sorry, but I do not think that we will be able to help you until you tell us what is really going on here. Now I suggest you begin by stating your real names and your intentions towards my daughter.” Sherlock nonchalantly stated.

John shot Sherlock one of his what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about looks. This was just too much. How had his dearest friend kept such a thing from him. That was that all the mystery was about. That was what everybody was keeping from him. Sherlock was a bleeding father!

Dean stepped forward, “Your what? Son of a bitch! That is why she had to come here!’

“What the bloody hell Sherlock!” Was all that John could manage to say

Sam nodded his head, “Let me guess you aren’t the police?”

Sherlock let the gun down and spoke, “No, so I guess we both have a little explaining. I guess turnabout is fair play. I am Sherlock Holmes and this is John Watson. It is only fair that you two return the favor and tell me your real names.”

Dean huffed and Sam sighed, “Okay, Mr. Holmes. I am Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean.”

Aha! That is where John had seen them before. They were the duo that has committed all those crimes in America that London was associated with. Very dangerous men indeed! This was turning into more of a complicated case than they had originally thought.

Instead of telling Sherlock right off John decided to bide his time. He wanted to see what these two had up their proverbially sleeve before he said anything.

“Well it looks like we have a mystery on our hands. It seems Miss McCarthy has gone missing and I think you two know more about what is going on than you are willing to share.” Sherlock stated

Sam looked at Dean with a meaningful glance. Sherlock raised his eyebrows and glanced at John. John was pretty sre there were volumes that these two were not telling and probably weren’t going to tell. Surely Sherlock had met his match in these two. When the silence began to stretch on finally Sherlock spoke again.

“Very well, I will tell you a few things. I must warn you that although I am not the police that I work very closely with Scotland Yard. I am a consulting detective. I help solve the crimes that they cannot. I am very good at what I do and there are very few that get past me. Do not think for a moment that secrets remain so from me.”

Dean smirked a little. “Is that so? Hmm. I will have to keep that in mind.”

“Listen,” Sam raised his hand to Dean, “We are not here to cause any trouble. We are just here to look after London. We promised her mother we would keep n eye on her before she died. We got worried when she took off and we tracked her here. There are some dangerous um...people after her.”

Something about the way he said “people” that struck John as strange. Maybe he was reading more into it than necessary. This was a truly perplexing mystery.

Sherlock began scanning the room. It was pretty sparse. There was a bed made up neatly it had not been slept in and there were no suitcases only a duffle and very few personal items. It was obvious London had traveled light. There were a few books on the table next to the bed. They were a couple of books on the occult. Strange reading for a young girl. There were no signs of struggle so if she had been taken she had not been kidnapped from her room.

“Yeah we looked over everything here. Nada. She wasn’t kidnapped from here, if she was kidnapped. Sam and I are very thorough.” Dean said following his eyes.

Sherlock peered at him, “Well then I suppose we need to go back to Baker street and do a little more research. John come long. You two coming. We must find my daughter.”

Dean peered at Sherlock with a look of distrust. He appeared to be summing the man up. There was a calculating look in his eyes. It was as if he was deciding how far he should trust the man. Slowly he nodded and motioned for him to lead the way. Sherlock nodded and swept out of the room after tucking the gun he was carrying away in his coat.


End file.
